I am my own biggest fan

I never get tired of me. Hearing about me, looking at me, reading about me. I am my biggest fan.

Last night after my triumphant post, I proceeded to stay online and just re-read at random my old posts. At first, I was just curious as to what I'd had to say back then. But after a few more, I found I was having trouble quitting. I couldn't stop reading. I mean, I'm the one who lived it, who wrote it, and yet I couldn't keep myself from reading on!

I laughed, I cried, I held my breath in suspense. Damn I'm good.

But then, what else am I writing for, if not to hold onto the memories?

"You don't have to hold onto the pain, to hold onto the memories."

And I'm not. Sure, I re-read and cried over the hard times, but that's because there was just some damn good emotion out there on the page. Sometimes I still believe that parts of my life would make for a mediocre book for the masses. I'm a human too--isn't that enough to share?

Here I've settled down to accomplish some work that I don't get done during business hours because there are just too many distractions at that office o' mine, and yet all I can think about is clicking back to read more and more and more...